Requiem For My Heart
by ayafangirl
Summary: Cartman reflects remorsefully on his fast and furious relationship with Kyle, and how his actions towards Kyle as a child led to the ultimate heartbreak. Angsty KyCart kinda one-sided, kinda not. Alternative Ending up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park and that is why I cut myself at night! JK.

Wow…this is getting freaky. Every story I've written for SP all has one common factor…Eric Theodore Cartman. I hate to admit it, but I guess I really love the little Nazi. I mean, he's just so CUTE! So here we are. Once again, an angst fic for Eric. Pay close attention to Kyle's words...I was careful to weigh everything he says so it sounds fine until you read the story through, then rethink it. Oh, be sure to read the author's note at the bottom…it's important!

Requiem For My Heart

I should have seen it coming. But I didn't. That's what led me to be where I am today. Inability to be cautious. I mean, I've always been so over-confident. But I guess that won't happen anymore. I can't think of many things that would make me confident after an event like the one I just faced. Not that I didn't have it coming. It's just…hard to believe it's really over. I'm still standing. I'm OK.

It didn't take place very long ago, the life-altering event. If you could call it that. Maybe it's just one of those high school experiences. Maybe after I graduate in a year and a half I'll forget it for good. At least…I guess it's a possibility. But I'm probably just confusing you. Let's take it from the top.

My name is Eric Cartman. I'm 16-years-old and a junior in South Park High, Colorado. I'm six feet tall, two hundred thirty pounds, blood type AB negative. My hair and eyes are both brown. Overall, your average teen. Oh yeah, I'm also a fervid racist…the whole 'Christianity is superior' thing. But most people are used to that. I guess I was a school bully, but that started to change when I started to fall in love. Hormones started it and friendship finished it. Ha, friendship.

Kyle Broflovski is also a 16-year-old junior at my school. He's five foot ten, one hundred and forty pounds, blood type AB negative. His curly red hair, freckled face, and emerald-green eyes have caused quite a few turned heads since middle school, when people started to have crushes on the best-looking kids in the grade. Kyle's always been beautiful. So is it any wonder I fell in love with him? I didn't show it though. I'm racist against Jews, so its pretty typical that Kyle's Jewish. I always called him out for it, bullied him because of it. Until junior year when I realized I was in love with the guy. Then I was nicer.

Here comes the fun part of the story. I knew Kyle'd never dated anyone. Neither had I. Me, Stan, Kenny and him, we'd always preferred hair-brained schemes to romance. Well, Stan dated Wendy, but whatever. I didn't particularly think much of it one night when Kyle ended up alone in my room with me. We were supposed to be doing a project for school, but Kenny was home sick and Stan skipped out on us to go on a date with Wendy (and hopefully get a sweet lay out of it).

"Okay…so where's your textbook?" he asked.

"Here," I said, handing it to him and turning away to boot up my computer. Behind me, I could hear the brainiac flipping through the pages behind me.

"Hey, Cartman?" his voice was steady, nonchalant. I grunted in reply, opening a clean document to type on and not bothering to look his way. "Is it true that you're in love with me?"

My head snapped back so fast it was painful. "W-wh-who told you that?!"

"Just answer me. Is it true?" he asked, sitting there and looking at me. Once he caught my gaze, he refused to let go; his eyes bored into mine. He was so calm, so annoyingly calm! Indifferent, even.

"Why do you need to know?"

"Your eyes say yes." he ignored my question.

"Kyle…it doesn't matter, does it? I mean…dude, heh, we—"

He stood up. "Yeah. It does matter. Because if you like me, I might as well give you what you want, right?"

"You don't even know what I want!" I snapped, but my heart was racing. Why was he so composed?! What was he saying? If this was a romantic confession, it was a crappy one. He didn't seem very lovey-dovey at all. It was when he stood up and looked me straight in the eyes that my heartbeat really began to pound. I could feel my face darkening.

"Cartman," he muttered, and kissed me. It scared me how right it felt. And also how wrong. It felt like someone had grabbed my heart and was gripping it tight. It hurt. His lips were warm and perfect, and I stepped back in shock. He stepped forward, refusing to lose any space between us. I stepped back again. He stepped forward. I stepped back. The back of my legs hit my bed. I forced myself away from his lips, which were hovering over mine once again.

"Kyle…you like me?" I whispered fearfully. Emotions and hormones were coursing through my blood and I didn't know how else to respond.

"No," he responded sounding sarcastic, "I just made out with you because I hate you. Surely kissing the person you've always wanted is part of my revenge against you."

I smiled, a little relieved. But then he pushed me. I landed sideways across my bed and he jumped me, kissing me again fiercely. Catching on quickly, I kissed back. His hands ghosted under my shirt and I whimpered at the contact; he smiled at this. It was almost funny how easily he talked me right out of my clothes. I mean, we'd only just started what I hoped would be the longest, most fantastic relationship in the school. But it felt right as long as it was his hands on my skin, his lips on my neck, him inside of me, moaning for me to say his name over and over. _"Kyle, Kyle, Kyle!"_

As long as it was Kyle, I was happy.

In retrospect, I question whether or not that the only reason that I was alright with losing everything I had to him. It's okay, he can have sex with me, he can kiss me, he can look at me like that...he's Kyle. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment with everything I had, hoping it would last.

I was lucky; it did.

"Be mine and only mine, Eric." he spoke as we lay side by side on my bed when he was through. I turned to look at him in shock.

"E-excuse me?"

"What I'm saying is go out with me. That way you can only be mine."

"I never knew you were so possessive," I teased. But I was smiling. He was being possessive over _me_.

"Only to things that truly mean a lot to me," he answered, also smiling. He was gorgeous when he smiled.

"Alright then. I want to go out with you, too."

This made him happy. And to my pleasant surprise, he didn't hold back, even in public. We never over-played the PDA, but he was fine with holding hands, hugging and kissing between classes. Kenny didn't take it well, but Stan took it unexpectedly calmly. They seemed to figure we had all been friends most of our lives, so something like this was bound to happen eventually. I'm not going to lie, it was the happiest time of my life. I realized how even when we were children, everything I did was for his attention. Every little moment that had been easy to forget as kids had been something deep-rooted. And I could finally express it freely.

I was finally free.

Too bad I was twirled around Kyle's finger. I'm sorry. Is this coming as too much of a shock to you at this point in my story? My documentation? My requiem? Because you can read that line over if you don't believe me, but it's true. I began to notice it slowly, but it trickled more and more each day.

Kyle only smiled a certain way around me. It wasn't the 'oh-I'm-with-Stan-and-he's-my-best-friend-and-I'm-happy smile. It was almost...sardonic. Sarcastic. Like a double entendre. It was a smile, but it wasn't happy. Not that I picked up on that at first. It took months to make the comparison. Months to come down off the high and start to notice just who I was once again. He also never wasted time with sex. If he wanted it, he'd make the call, usually just by pushing me back onto whatever couch or bed (or in one case, Bebe's porch at a party...but we were both kind of drunk)we happened to be together on and usually leaving as soon as he was done.

No, not as soon as _we_ were done. As soon as _he_ was done. Sometimes I was left in Kyle's dust.  
He never did things just to be sweet. We were dating and that was enough. It bothered Kenny and made Stan uncomfortable but that was OK. People stared and said it wouldn't last but they were stupid. Finally, I decided to ask Kyle myself.

"What...do I mean to you?" I asked casually. We were walking home from school. My coat was draped around his shoulders because he had forgotten his in his locker and the rain coming down was cold.

"What does that mean?" he asked, eyes on the sidewalk before us.

"Like, do you love me or do you like to be with me or do I make you smile or what?"

For quite a while, he was silent; staring straight ahead. Finally, that eerie smile came onto his face, spreading across his lips. I shuddered. He wasn't about to say something nice.

"Okay, who tipped you off; Kenny finally got worried for you or Stan is so scared of me he warned you?"

"I'm sorry? Kyle, I didn't talk to Stan or Kenny. Answer the question."

He smirked at me. "You mean...satisfaction, Eric."

"What does that mean?"

"Do you really want me to tell you now? Right now?"

"Yes, dammit!" I snapped. I didn't usually yell at him like that.

"I mean...you satisfy something that I've pent up for most of my life. Since we were kids, you were always so mean to me. Then, I learned that you really loved me. You had a crush on me. It was perfect. I could finally get it, finally."

"Get what?"

He looked me straight in the eyes. "Well, revenge of course."

The world stopped spinning. Lightning flashed overhead. "Revenge?" I realized we had both stopped walking and were standing face-to-face in the icy rain. Kyle took a deep breath and began to explain himself to me fully, no editing, no fluff, no emotion. He was matter-o-fact.

"I hated you, Eric. You were always cruel to me, always! 'Jew', 'Ginger', 'Nerd', it builds up after a while. You've tried to kill me and sexually harass me. When I learned that you had a crush on me, as I said, I was thrilled at the chance to get revenge. Oh, and before you get angry, I put two and two together...no one tipped me off on the whole 'crush' thing. So, I asked you to go out with me. You said yes, you stupid, fat bastard. Because all you wanted was to hold me in your arms, to claim possession of me, to be fucked by me, right? I didn't decline your silent requests. I dated you, mocking you the whole time. There was never love, never compassion, I could really care less if you got hit by a train. The only thing I cared about was using you.

"The best part is how long it took you to catch on. I thought Stan had tipped you off because when he learned I was serious about dating you for revenge, it kind of creeped him out. Then Kenny...heh, for whatever reason, he likes you. He's a little angry at me for doing this now. But hey, I'm gonna miss having a lap dog myself, so I guess everyone's a little upset. I took everything you had and now I get to watch it blow up in your face. You have no idea how happy you've made me.

"I guess it's the only time you ever will too, since I usually detest you. So, it's earlier than I would have liked, but there you have it, Fatass. The truth. I hate you. I have always hated you. I will die hating you. But it's all okay because I get to see the look on your fucking face right now. I told you what you wanted to know, you mean revenge and nothing more to me. Good-bye, I'll see you again. The new and improved, broken Eric Cartman. That's what you get." he ended with a sneer. And turning on his heel, spun away from me. "Oh," he glanced back, shrugging out of my jacket, "take this back. Thanks."

And he walked away.

I fell to my knees, eyes on the ground as the freezing rain bit at my hair and skin. I stared down blankly at my trademark red jacket that he had thrown onto the ground before me. I didn't have the strength to reach down and pick it up. I didn't have the strength to do anything.

Kyle didn't love me? He had only been using me? I don't know how long it was before the rain pouring down my face was joined by tears, which burned like a liquid fire in contrast to the downpour. But they fell just as heavily. Cried silently, shocked.

I had served as a tool. Nothing more?

What had I done? All those years as a stupid child, picking on his favorite friend and now that 'friend' had turned around and stabbed me in the back. I don't know how many hours I spent in the rain on the sidewalk, but it was a long time because I was soaked to the bone by the time I was dragged to my feet by a surprisingly strong pair of hands.

Completely by chance, Kenny had been out picking up cigarettes from the gas station. He had seen me, figured out what must have happened, and without saying a word, led me home and to bed. I lost all sense of time, so I don't remember if I woke up on a Saturday or if we just skipped school, but Kenny continued to look after me silently, forcing me to eat and staring into space with a blank expression while stroking my arm like I was a cat. I guess I was used to being treated as a pet. It was like that for a while, and I stared as blankly as he did, empty. There was absolutely nothing within me. No fire, no passion, no feel. I guess it was like the cold ashes of a bonfire. Cold and miserable, missing the warmth of the dancing flame and wishing it would return although there's nothing to return to.

That kind of concludes my story, if you want to call it that. Looking back, I just wonder what would have happened if I hadn't asked Kyle what I meant to him. How much longer would he have kept me around? Maybe in time, he would have learned to actually love me, but that's probably just crazy talk. The only clear moral is simple: never, ever mess with Kyle Broflovski, or you will get burned.

Wow. That was depressing. Jeez, what is wrong with me? OK, important, look at the next to last line of the story. I know this is probably the best ending because even though it's sad, it's the original and what I had in mind when I started. But I hate sad endings and don't want Kyle to hurt Cartman. So, if you want, I could post an alternative ending that has a happy KyCart groove. I know it seems hard, but I can end this happily with a bonus ending if you want! Please tell me what you think because if you don't want to read it, I won't post it. REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2Alternative Ending

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park and that is why I cut myself at night! JK.

OK, now that I've thoroughly depressed us all, time for a happy twist. This isn't like a second chapter, just an alternative to the way the story leaves off that takes place several days later than the original. Thank you for the wonderful reviews and remember, the darkest, most evil characters are often the ones with the most depth and potential. I meant Eric, but that statement could probably also work for Kyle in this case.

Alternative Ending

Thursday.

My heart was ripped out of my chest on Thursday.

I was left to die on Thursday.

My life was over. My lover was gone. Hatred had conquered all.

Today is Monday.

Most people hate Mondays, but I see potential. A new week. A new slate. I, Eric Cartman, am starting my life over.

It wasn't as long as some post-break up-distress cases I've seen, but it was definitely the worst. For Friday and the entire weekend, I was completely immobile and empty. My only salvation was been Kenny. He was the one who found me in the streets after the break up, and he was the one who stayed with me all of Friday and into Saturday.

"You've gotta lick this, Eric. I'll stop by tomorrow night, then on Monday we can walk to school together, alright?" were the only words he spoke the whole time. He's the only friend I really have, so I guess he knows I don't need words to communicate. Plus Kenny's always been the kind to convey thoughts and feelings with his eyes. He didn't look at me pityingly when he found me, which I appreciated. He had known what was going to happen before I did. He had known since _we _got together. He had known I was going to be broken by _him._

Kyle.

The love of my life, the Hitler to the concentration camp of my heart and mind. I'm sorry. Was that line too angsty and 'teen-melodrama-esque'? I don't mean to sound like I'm whining. I guess that's just the bitter way my mind works. Fucking Jew...No. I can't think that about him. He hurt me, but it was my fault Kyle had snapped and had done that to me. I did it to myself.

I corrupted Kyle.

And I payed the price. But today is Monday. Lots of people don't like the beginning of another week, but I'm looking forward to a day most people hate. I suppose I've always been counter-culture. I looked up at the school Kenny and I had arrived at. I had to go in and face everyone? I had to face Kyle?

"You have to do this, Eric." Kenny read my mind. And answered sternly, the opposite of what I had been hoping for. He could be surprisingly sweet and compassionate, but also a firm believer in tough love. He had told me once in middle school that he didn't think my mother had raised my right. He said he felt it his job as my best friend to help her.

"I know, Kenny."

"Can you?"

"Of course I can. You know me Kenny, I'm strong."

"I know you well enough to say you're quite the opposite." he answered, midnight-blue eyes on me. "And I wouldn't tell you to come to school if I didn't think it was for your own good. I love you and Kyle both. You're both my friends, but what he did was cruel and unusual—"

"But it was my fault."

"—I wasn't going to say it wasn't. I'm not justifying what either of you did but in my opinion he went too far. That's all. If you want to move on, you have to take the initiative and stand up straight. Show Kyle you can overcome this and have the courage to look him in the eyes."

"I don't think I can."

"You will. I will drag you into this fine establishment if I have to," he said simply, waving to the school before us with flourish.

"Fine establishment?" he narrowed his eyes, daring me to speak another word without making my way into the school, so I entered the building hastily.

"Eric. I'm here for you, just try, okay? Try to move on. Please." he begged quietly, and disappeared into a crowd. I made my way to my locker to get my morning books. Without the blond at my side, I felt defenseless. My fingers twisted the combination lock numbly. I hoped my face looked as blank as my mind felt. That's what the pain had turned to at this point: blankness. Along with my happiness, Kyle had robbed me of my personality, my passion, the spark of life everyone has. I was operating on auto pilot, there was no emotion in what I did. I was vaguely aware that people were bustling around me, but didn't particularly care. That is, until a bright flash of green passed me. My stomach dropped as I saw the bright green of Kyle's ushanka out of the corner of my eye. I winced mentally as that kelly-green hat paused...right next to me at my locker. Kyle was standing beside me, staring at me.

"Hey...Eric. Missed you on Friday."

I couldn't look. I couldn't turn to face those eyes I knew so well. It would be too painful. All the fear and feeling would return. Once again I would feel like I was hyperventilating. But he wasn't going to walk away. I realized that after a few moments of me flipping through my bag, pretending to search for books I didn't really need. I was just hoping he would pick up on my signals and go away, but it's not like it would be the first time he ignored what I was conveying to him.

"Look. I need to talk to you. Now. Please, I've done a lot of thinking, and really think it will do good for both of us if you hear it."

"Since when do you think about what's good for the both of us?" I asked. It would have sounded spiteful, but my voice wavered as if I was about to break into tears. He caught this too.

"No, please! Eric..." for the first time, I looked into his viridian eyes. And was surprised. There was no malice, no mock, no sardonic sneer. He looked desperate. He also looked tired, as though he hadn't been getting much sleep. There were dark circles under his eyes. The plea convinced me. This could be good closure for us both. Good closure for me...I didn't care about him anymore.

"Fine." I said, closing the locker slowly and leaning against it. His jade eyes darted around and he looked back at me.

"Not here. Somewhere alone. Outside!" he suggested, grabbing my forearm and leading me towards the doors.

"KYLE!" roared a familiar voice behind us. Kyle jumped and turned to face Kenny, who was followed by Stan. The blond's eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits and Stan's cobalt-blue ones were worried. Kenny was speed-walking and his fists were clenched. Stan shadowed him, eyes on those fists as though he was a silent mediator to a fight that was inevitably about to break out. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped, stopping beside us, face close to Kyle's.

"Sorry, Kenny. But it's between me and Eric. Don't worry, we're going to talk things out."

"Isn't that cute? Wouldn't it be a perfect world if people had the mind to do that _before_ getting into close relationships? But they don't, and I'm not giving you the satisfaction now." he spat, reaching to pry Kyle's hand from my arm. I remembered him saying he loved us both earlier, but his favoritism was showing immensely.

"Why don't we ask what Cartman wants to do?" Stan suggested. It was funny how he was the only one who still called me by my last name, but I liked the normalcy and felt appreciative of that. I didn't appreciate his suggestion, however. Although it was the most logical, even the most fair, I didn't know what I wanted to do. Should I risk everything I had and all the steps I had taken to heal and speak to Kyle alone? Or should I leave with Kenny, who was trying so desperately to protect me, to keep the remaining fragments of my soul pieced together. Before I could make a decision, Kenny started in again.

"Kyle'll only deceive him! It's what he's been doing for almost a fucking year! He plays these god damned mind games and no one can figure him out!"

"No, Kenny. I won't." the redhead begged softly. He looked pleadingly at the blond for any sympathy. "I want to talk. I feel bad."

Kenny made a sarcastic noise in the back of his throat. "How dare you say you feel bad?! You gave into it, Kyle! You're the weak one here!"

Wait. Hadn't Kenny said that he knew I wasn't strong? _Quite the opposite_, those had been his words. Now he was saying that Kyle was even weaker than me?

"You always got angry! You always gave into what Eric said about you! EVERY TIME! It drove you insane, don't you get it? You were driven mad by revenge and the desire to inflict the same pain that built up inside of you! You allowed simple words and stupid actions to corrupt you, you stupid, fucking Jew! And you have the nerve to suggest you've managed to take control just like that?! You lost your sanity to revenge a long time ago, Kyle. I'm sorry."

Kyle looked at Kenny. "You're right," he agreed evenly. "But I've run out all I had. I'm emotionally drained. The revenge ends here. Look at him," he motioned to me, "do you really think I could do any worse? That I have the evil inside of me to hurt him any more than I have? It's over. Stan, Kenny...Eric. I could never hurt another human being the same way I did just recently. My reign of terror ends here. Sociological torment is over."

He stopped speaking abruptly. Finally, Stan spoke. "I believe you. Kenny? Cartman?"

I nodded. "I want to talk to Kyle."

My other friend gave in at my request, but didn't lose his fervid sense of protectiveness over me. "Kyle, buddy. If you _dare _to hurt Eric, if you say _one little thing_ to make him cry again, I'll break your fucking Jew legs. And then, I'll snap your neck. Got that?"

"Yes." he responded, looking right back into Kenny's eyes. Without another word, he led me out the door.

"Come on, dude," I heard Stan murmur comfortingly, "we'll come up with an excuse for them to have skipped class."

The two of us stood alone in the cold morning air. The rising sun was blinding, but the air was chilly and I wished I had grabbed my heavier coat before following my ex-boyfriend outside. Huh, I had never thought of him as such. I shivered and was shocked to see Kyle shrug off his own orange jacket and offer it to me. "I don't—"

"Please take it. It'll make me feel better."

"Thanks."that had been the last thing he had said to me before he left me. It felt sarcastic to say, but I meant it seriously,and pulled it around my shoulders without bothering to slide my arms through it. I could feel his body heat on the inside material. It was nostalgic, comforting. Only Kyle didn't love me and the reason he offered it was a mystery. That is, until he spoke.

"Tell me, 'I'm sorry'...is that too simple? I mean, that's the gist of it, but would it make you angry if I said that, or should I say it anyway to get the point across before I explain myself?"

"You're apologizing?" I raised an eyebrow. Now that I saw him so sad and flustered, I couldn't remember what had been so intimidating about him. He was smaller than me for one thing, and his expression wasn't so tough. He looked weak, fragile, even. Maybe he really had been driven mad. I realized upon observing him (he looked back at me, allowing me to read his face silently) that this was the delicate Kyle that I had fallen in love with. That thought made me shiver despite the fact that I was no longer cold with his coat around me.

"Yeah. I-I am. Eric...hear me out, please. Then, you can say whatever you want and it'll be fine but just listen to me so I can have peace of mind in that I tried to explain myself. Please."

"Start now." I said. But it wasn't a command. It was an offer. I wanted to hear Kyle explain himself. I wanted him to express what had led to something so out of character. I wanted to forgive him. Was I weak? Was it wrong of me to have such a weak and pathetic sense of self? Kyle sighed.

"Do you think...it's possible for someone to fall in love with the enemy? I did hate you...but Kenny's right. That just became my persona. I disregarded my real feelings and morals. I knew what I was doing to you, but the game was so thrilling I ignored that. Until we started dating. When it was just the two of us...even when other people were around, you just became a new person! You were kind, loving...the opposite of what I had trained myself to believe you were.

" I felt bad about hurting you...I actually started to regret it, but I convinced myself I had to do it to stop you from ever bashing my religion! I didn't _want_ to hurt you anymore. But I forced myself to keep going. I had to reach the pinnacle. When I did, I felt like I had lost my flame. The passion that had kept me going was gone. And worst of all, I couldn't wipe the look on your face from my mind. You looked so abandoned, so crushed...all because of me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized the truth...

_"I'm in love with you._

"Eric, just...being around you, seeing how much you loved, how much my happiness mattered to you...and it wasn't an act. I wanted to keep the charade going because it meant I could stay with you and feel special. I'm sorry for hurting you. And also for loving you. But it's the truth."

I gaped. "So...what are you saying? You want...to go out with me again?"

He looked really happy for a few seconds. Like I had suggested something huge to him. Like I had promised him the key to the city. Then, his face fell.

"No...I can't ask that of you. It'd be painful for you, I'm sure. I don't want to hurt you...sorry. But I want you, yeah. I love you. I am unconditionally, completely, in love with you. You're great, really. I've never met anyone so loving and romantic as you. I never want to forget the way you made me feel. But I'll also never forget how I hurt you. I can't ever...risk hurting you again."

A heavy silence fell over the two of us. Kyle shivered and I removed the jacket, shoving it at him. He stared at it blankly.

"Kyle, take the—"

"So you're not even going to gratify me with an answer?"

"Oh. Take this. Then we can talk," he obeyed. "How can you expect me to believe you after all you did to me?"

"I don't," he responded simply, "I just told you the truth. Interpret it however you want. I failed my mission horribly. I fell in love with you while trying to destroy you. What can I say? Love is blind. Um...that's it. So...bye."

I grabbed his arm forcefully as he tried to run away. "Wait. Just wait. Kyle..." and before I could help it I had pulled him into a tight embrace. I felt him shudder as though shocked to feel my body against his again and then he wrapped his arms around me. Overcome with emotions I couldn't make sense of, I tilted his face up towards mine and leaned down slowly to kiss him. He made no move to pull away so I closed the space between us. When he didn't didn't kiss back immediately, I angled my mouth differently over his and urged him to. He did, his lips molding against mine.

It was passionate, loving, desperate, different from any other kiss we had ever shared. We pulled away, looking into each other's eyes. Jade into chocolate, chocolate into jade. I realized that it was as though we had just shared our first kiss. Both of us shy, awkward, but both of us needing the other..._loving _the other.

"I know it's stupid, but I'm still in love with you." I admitted.

"I love you so much," he sobbed, clinging to me. He was crying? Kyle Broflovski was crying?! I held him. Maybe some day soon, he'd betray me again. Maybe he'd laugh and say I was a stupid bastard. But something in those eyes promised otherwise. I was trusting Kyle and trusting my heart once more. Yeah, he could hurt me worse than before if he wanted to. But I doubt he will.

"Come on," I said, leading him back inside by the hand, "we'll clean you up in the bathroom and get to class."

He nodded, giving my hand a squeeze. It was the most affectionate thing he had ever done to me. And I knew it wouldn't be the last.

I love how optimistic it is, it leaves the future up to you, lucky reader! So OK, better? Yay, Eric! Yay, Kyle! I don't hate Kyle, I just think he has a malevolent side just as dark as Eric's if not darker (probably cuz he's smarter). I really enjoyed writing Kenny as the protective voice of reason who diagnosed Kyle's insanity, and was even a little violent, YAY VIOLENCE! Stan seemed really weak and ineffective at first, but when you look at it from a different perspective, I think he was just being the mediator and refusing to take sides. I don't think he was weak, anyway, it's hard to describe.

SO THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT...this was one of the funnest to type even if it's scary for me to type such depressing stuff. REVIEW, I LOVES YOU ALL!


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